The Time Was Never Right
by Ryosei Takashi Hime
Summary: When 5 is told 2 is lost, he hides away in his room to mourn. Slightly AU 5/2 fluff.


"The times weren't right, and I couldn't talk about it."

--- Flyleaf, _So I Thought_

The Time Was Never Right

5 sat alone in his room with his knees pulled up to his chin. He didn't want to talk to anyone, though 9 continued to yell at him through the door. He had kept insisting they go save 2, but 2 was dead and all the hope in the world wasn't going to bring him back. Didn't 9 see that? He ignored the shouts and rubbed his face against his leg softly. He couldn't cry, but, oh, how he wished he could. The twins had explained it to them all once – the human responses to emotions. They had the emotions as well, and could easily show them with facial expressions, but the tears stayed all bottled up inside with no way to escape. They were not physically capable of producing tears, but it was 5's soul that cried. He could feel the tears drowning him inside, and he allowed himself to sink into depression. There had been so many things he had wanted to say to 2 that had never made it past his lips. Well, there was really only one thing he had wanted to say, and so many times he could have said it. But the time had never been right, and now he couldn't talk about it. Not with those closest to him, and certainly not with this newcomer. He buried his face further into the rough fabric of his knee and squeezed his eyes shut, wishing for all the world to have those moments back.

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The first moment he had lost to time had been the day he'd truly fallen in love with 2. It was a fearful day, a painful day. Bullets rained around them as they desperately searched for a sanctuary away from the chaos of the humans. 5 was having a hard time keeping up with the others, stumbling clumsily over his feet as he gripped the rim of the helmet tightly. He could feel his insides whirring in panic as he looked in all directions, optics blinking rapidly as he took in the flashes of light and bursts of sand that erupted around their feet. It was all too much for his already nervous nature. He couldn't take it. And then, it happened. He tripped, and time ceased, the world spinning as he fell to the ground. He wasn't even sure when the bullet hit his eye, only aware of the fact that there was a sudden, intense pain pulsing through his face. He was done for. He had known it as soon as his hand rose to cover the sparking circuitry that protruded from his wound. No one would be dumb enough to come back for him in this horror. But _he_ did.

5 had heard 1's voice in the distance, telling the others to leave him, but when 2's arms went around him – lifting him to his feet gently – a strong sense of safety came over him. He clung to 2 as this fluttering feeling filled his slowing gears, a calmness overcoming him suddenly. He knew it, then: that he was in love. He didn't have a name for it, but he felt it. Even when 7 came to help them, it was to 2 5 looked with his remaining eye. And, as they hurried back into the safety of the helmet, 5 could feel 2's fingers gripping the baggy burlap around his hips. The warmth inside only grew. He could feel strange words pushing at the back of his mind, trying to find their way out as he kept his one-eyed gaze on 2, but in the chaos of their escape, he couldn't find them.

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After repairing his eye, nothing could separate 5 from 2. 2 seemed more than happy to take 5 under his wing. He taught him many things, made him his apprentice, but this wasn't enough for 5. He realized more and more every day that it wasn't enough. He longed to be closer to 2, closer than his fingers simply brushing across the elder stitchpunk's from time to time at the workbench, closer than a pair of brushing shoulders on the way to the workshop, closer than the feel of 2's skilled fingers patching his injuries. He wanted….he wanted… He wasn't quite sure what it was he wanted. He just longed to be closer, so much closer.

One day, he was unable to fight this urge any longer. While looking for supplies with 2, he had been injured and the inventor was in the process of stitching his arm. 5 watched his fingers with a smile, and 2 could never get over how easily he took the pain. He hadn't a clue this was the result of 5's admiration for the other stitchpunk's fingers. Nothing made 5 happier than watching 2's fingers as they worked. So, when 2 severed the thread attached to his arm, 5 grabbed his wrist. 2 stared in shock for a moment, wondering what could possibly be wrong, but 5 was still smiling. He touched his fingers to 2's softly, and watched intently as they slid between his mentor's stiff digits. He could feel that warmth grow within him once again as he grasped the other's hand tightly. He had no idea why this was so, but he could fight it no longer. He smiled with a distant look in his eye, which never left their hands. 2 seemed concerned.

"Is something the matter, my boy?" he asked softly.

2's voice broke the spell the touch had cast over him, and 5 looked away as his hands fell to his side quickly. He had wanted to hold on so much longer, had wanted 2 to return the gesture, but he shook his head slowly.

"No, I just…" 5 searched his mind for a rational explanation. "I just wanted to see if our fingers were the same size. Mine are smaller. I should probably be the one to put the lenses in the telescope today."

2 agreed with a smile, and they returned to the workshop in silence. 5 couldn't manage to speak without the warmth filling his stomach again, but now it was uncomfortable. He felt embarrassed and sick. He kept his back to 2 as he worked, refusing to make eye contact. He still did not quite understand what it was he felt for 2, but it was starting to make him clumsier than he had ever been. He often found himself stuttering or stumbling around like an idiot as he tried to be as helpful as possible. 2 probably never even realized that his interest in mechanics had become simply a way to get closer to him, closer to his approval, closer to that warm feeling.

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And then, there was today. If 5 could start one day over, it would be this day. When 2 had told him of his new mission, his insides became cold. Why would 1 send him on such a dangerous mission? What if something happened to 2? How could 5 ever live without the older stitchpunk's presence in his life? He _was_ 5's life and had been for a very a long time. He had come to rely on 2 for everything – confidence, safety, assurance, love, companionship, it was all wrapped up in 2 – and he'd even begun openly seeking the affection he wanted so desperately. There was no way he could survive alone now.

"But, why?" he demanded of 2. "Why does it have to be you?"

"It's an order," 2 responded simply, as light-hearted as ever. "I have to do my part to protect our home from time to time."

5's sense of foreboding only grew as 2 reached for his weapon. He wanted to shout at him to drop it. It didn't belong in his kind, gentle hands. Those fingers were for creating, not fighting. 2 searched the room for his hat, and every time he turned his back, 5 took a step towards him. He reached his hands out for the elder stitchpunk's back but couldn't bring himself to actually touch him. There was that sick feeling again. He didn't know what to do, but his mind screamed at him to do something, anything. This couldn't happen! 2 turned to face him again, hat in hand, and 5 felt his heart ripping in two. He wasn't even going to say good-bye. He simply nodded at 5 as he passed. 5 gripped his chest, eye shooting back and forth frantically.

"W-wait!" he shouted at last. "Don't go. I…."

2 turned at his outburst, and 5 reached his hands out for him again. He took a step forward but froze suddenly. His legs were like led. 5's face softened and an understanding light entered his optics. He let his hat and spear fall to the ground, closing the distance between them with a few sure strides. He took 5's outstretched hand in both of his own.

"I'll be back before you know it, my friend," 2 assured him, smiling again. "I promise."

5 would have cried if he could, his other hand closing over 2's. He held him there for a while, hoping he wouldn't go after all, but soon his fingers wormed their way from beneath his. No, he didn't want that to be the end of it. He didn't even give 2 time to turn his back on him. 5 thrust himself at the inventor, throwing his arms around 2's neck, his fingers clutching at the cloth of his back desperately. He buried his face in the leather vest that held 5's burlap skin closed and tried one more time to find the words that would keep him here, where he belonged.

"Don't leave, please? I….I…."

To 5's surprise, 2's arms fell around his shoulders softly, and he squeezed the youngster's trembling body so close that 5's buttons dug painfully into his stomach. He placed his cheek against the top of 5's head, and his fingers tangled in the number on his back. 5 could feel the warmth returning – no – a fire. It started in his middle and spread all over. He pressed closer to 2, though it was a futile attempt. They could get no closer than they were unless 5 undid the laces in 2's front and crawled inside him. He could already feel every part of 2's framework through the thick material of his skin. He sighed sadly. He knew 2 would part from him soon. When he did, his chest felt the way his eye did when he'd lost it so long ago. He gripped the cloth there once again as he watched 2 walk away.

"I'll be back," he promised again, retrieving his hat from the floor as he went. "I'll find you something interesting."

After 2 had disappeared, 5 stood in the middle of their workshop and gazed into space. He felt 2 was already lost. No one had ever come back from the wasteland beyond the Emptiness, not even 7. He put his other hand to his chest and clutched the place that would have contained his heart if he were human. He pulled at the cloth there until it was too painful to bear and fell to his knees.

"I love you," he whispered to the empty room. "I love you."

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Why had 2 let him slip away like that? He could have stopped him if he had tried harder. He could have at least confessed to his face, instead of whimpering about it after he'd gone. He grabbed his head as 9's knocking came back into focus. He had left reality for a moment without even realizing it. Why couldn't 9 go away and let him drown, already? He shook his head with a choked sound and thought, maybe he was crying after all. He could almost feel the tears trickling down his face, cold and damp. It was only his imagination, but it felt so real. The thought of never seeing 2 again was too painful to bear, and he couldn't talk about it.

"Go away!" he shouted back at 9. "Go away!"

"He could still be alive!" 9 repeated. It was all he had been screaming, but 5 couldn't let his hopes get up like that. "He would come for you, wouldn't he?"

5 felt like he had been slapped in the face. The feeling of crying left him, and he sat up suddenly. That statement burned because he knew it was true. 2 would have left immediately, spear in hand, and rushed to his rescue. He always had, but when had 5 ever taken that risk for 2? He loved him, yes, and knew he would die for him, but when had he ever shown it? He had taken 2 for granted all this time. He stood from his bed slowly and stared at the door where 9 was still knocking. He may have still been shouting, but 5 couldn't focus on his words. He was making a decision for himself for once, and he knew he had to go to 2, even if he was dead, to prove he could risk his life for the one he loved. 5 clutched his chest briefly before flinging the door open to face 9. The time was finally right. After all, what had he left to lose?


End file.
